


Of Cheese and Sparkling Vampires

by Talimee



Category: Legacy of Kain
Genre: Humor, M/M, Rare Pairings, Silly, Translation, body-glitter, crack-fic, everybody loves cheese, teenagers on a night out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 23:46:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13375614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talimee/pseuds/Talimee
Summary: Vorador had quite a different idea of his date with Malek. Alcohol and cheese - all well and good - but when annoying little brothers, evil old men and a cartload of glitter are brought into the game, even a Vampire has to step up his act.





	Of Cheese and Sparkling Vampires

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Von Käse und Glitzer-Vampiren](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13375227) by [Squickqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squickqueen/pseuds/Squickqueen). 



> Janos Audron as strict but brutally overworked, because single, Dad? Vorador, Kain and Raziel as his nut-job sons? Malek wooing big-eared, big-mouthed, green Vampires and never taking his helmet off even in bed? Must be Squickqueen's [Nosgoth-Chibis](http://sithy.deviantart.com/gallery/5131545)-series over at Deviantart.  
> Have here the fist fanfiction to this plethora of weird silliness. ;D

**Of Cheese and sparkling Vampires**

 

The moon was rising over the vampire stronghold: round and bright and ... It reminded Vorador a tiny bit of cheese. The teenage vampire chewed on the end of his pencil and left deep bite marks with his pointed teeth. His stomach grumbled and drew the attention of Janos Audron towards him. The blue vampire’s brow arched upwards when he noticed the absent-minded look on his eldest son's face, who did not give the slightest impression of being interested in the square-root of nine pillars.

„Vorador! Here is where the music is!” he said admonishingly. “Concentrate on your task, please, you’re not leaving until you’re finished! Every future vampire lord and sado-hedonist must be able to solve the calculation. You are going to fail the exams and ...“

„Is it metal?!“

Janos skidded to a halt in mid-sermon.

„Pardon?“

„The music. Is it metal? Everything else is dull“, Vorador explained and belligerently stuck out his chin.

„You'll damage your ears one of these days listening to that horrible noise!“, Janos scolded.

„YOLO!“

Janos was speechless. _Yolo?_ What was that supposed to mean? Was this some nonsense Vorador had picked up from that Sarafan he was fraternizing with lately? Something Janos was deeply opposed to but alas!, no one under this roof seemed to care about what he thought! Raziel vanished into thin air every few days and brought home the strangest strays from the spectral world and Kain ... well, Kain was evolving into the biggest pain in the butt this side of Meridian with an ego as big and unfathomable as the insides of Moebius’ harem-pants!

The ancient vampire felt another strand of his black hair turn grey.

„I think, I have to forbid you to see Malek from now on. He has a bad influence on your manners and your speech. And he is a Sarafan to boot. In case you didn’t notice: they tend to stake vampires through the heart“, Janos added dryly but was only rewarded with Vorador eyeballing him.

„You are sooooo out of touch, Dad. Vampire vs. Sarafan – maybe that was a thing in _your_ day, but now my time has come! And if I want to hang out with a Sarafan, so what? What’s it to you?“

„I know these men! Religious fanatics and vampire-slayers the lot of them! And Moebius is the worst of all!“

„Uncle Moe?”, Vorador snorted. “C'mon, he’s harmless.“

 

He should have kept his mouth shut, Vorador thought a little while later, when the heavy oak-door to his room slammed shut. His ears where still ringing from the lecture Janos had given him.

Things like „Time Streamer“, „malignant garden gnome“, „go to your room“ and „no one is expecting the moebic inquisition“ had been yelled. Vorador wasn’t sure what an inquisition was but Janos had been purple in his face when he’d screamed that – so he didn’t dare ask.

Granted, Moebius might not be the harmless old codger Vorador liked to take him for, but did Janos have to go spare and _ground him?!_ The night was way too beautiful to stay indoors and mould. Malek surely was already in the _Red Raven_ , drinking his favourite poison-green cocktail with a paper umbrella and fruits sticking out of it and, probably, already bored out of his helmet.

„No!“, Vorador said to himself. He could not abandon his Sarafan friend to boredom! He would break out and safe him, ha! With sword in hand and, eh, blowing hair!

***

„Where are you going? Daddy grounded you, y’know.“

„Shut your mouth, Kain!“

In his best impersonation of a teenaged girl, Vorador was in the middle of abseiling himself via the grapevines, when suddenly Kain’s face appeared out of the dark. The annoying brat was always there where he wasn’t wanted! Now the little pest was leaning over the balustrade and was noisily inhaling and exhaling a large drop of spit.

„I’ll wring your scrawny neck if you’re spitting!“, Vorador hissed and tried to keep his footing on the swinging vines. He had gained considerable muscle mass and height during the last years. Soon he wouldn’t be able to sneak out this way without risking to fall to an inglorious death. Maybe he should focus more on his teleportation lessons. In the future, or so.

Or better move out of this madhouse all together!

Kain grinned.

„You’re never gonna catch me anyway, snail-ass! And if, I’ll just tell Daddy that you were on the way to a daa-hate with Malek.“

„I don’t have a daa-hate with Malek!“

„Then why have you prettied yourself up?“

Vorador clenched his claws into the vines until they were cracking.

„I did _not_ pretty myself up!“, he hissed through clenched teeth. And that wasn’t even a lie. Not really.

A black band shirt with blood-red „Impaler“-logo, spiked leather choker, studded arm bands, and piercings in his large ears – Janos would pluck his feathers one by one if he could see his eldest in this get-up.

On the other hand, Vorador wasn’t trying to impress his father but a certain Sarafan. And who gave a rat’s ass on the opinion of an eon-old vampire anyway, whose most exiting hobby was to hunt snails in his kitchen garden!? And Kain was too young and too stupid in any case to understand these matters!

„How about you bring Raziel back to bed?“, he ordered Kain as a glowing pair of eyes joined them. Raziel pushed his head between the banisters and watched Vorador attentively. He was clutching his ragged stuffed animal close to his chest. A disgusting thing, Vorador thought, chewed-on and dirty, but Raziel was passionately in love with his stuffed toy squid.

„Am I his nurse?“, Kain shot back and kicked a pebble onto Vorador’s head.

„No. But his older brother. And as such you have responsibilities.“

„Ah, so that’s the reason _you_ are sneaking away, right, and have a date with your boyfriend?“

Hissing and spitting Vorador jumped towards the balcony again but Kain was already out of reach.

„Vory and Malek are sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!“

„Shut your trap!! I swear I'll gut you like a fish and feed your entrails to Janos’ snails!“

Vorador’s threats didn’t impress.

A sly grin crept on to Kain’s face.

„What do I get if I don’t rat you out to Daddy?“

„You can keep your head, what about that?“

„Nah, no deal. I know! I want a shrunken hen!“

Vorador hit his head against the stone wall.

„A shrunken hen? I thought you’d demand who knows what! Shrunken hen it is then ... I DON’T HAVE THAT KIND OF STUFF IN MY POCKET, OF COURSE!“, he snapped as Kain held out his claw.

„Promise!“

Vorador rolled his eyes.

„I promise by ... by Janos’ cookie jar.“

Kain appeared satisfied with that. He took Raziel’s hand and led him away triumphantly and a growling Vorador could finally abseil in peace.

***

„You took your time.“ Malek was stooping over his third cocktail when Vorador finally reached the _Red Raven_.

„Kain.“

That alone was enough to let the helmeted Sarafan nod sympathetically. He signalled the bartender.

„A Bloody Mary, 0-negative, for the bedraggled blood sausage here. My treat. You look as if you could use a drink.“

The vampire chugged the drink and slammed the empty glass back on the table.

„Another one!“, he ordered.

A chuckle emerged from the depths of Malek’s helmet.

„What’s so funny? You want to sleep on the couch tonight?!“

Malek only laughed louder.

„Better than a bunk bed in a room stuffed with a hundred snoring Sarafan. Dumah cuts down whole forests!“

Vorador said nothing and turned around in his seat. Both elbows propped on the table behind him he let his gaze wander around the tavern. Everyone was here – the usual suspects: a group of Hylden was singing loudly and wrongly a song about the long gone glorious days of their people, vampires got drunk on Bloody Marys, humans were comforting each other while lamenting their harsh fate in these evil, evil times, demons were conversing about shrunken hens (Vorador made a mental note to bugger those muscle demons for a chicken later) and the few Sarafan who stuck out of the crowd like sore Sluagh were putting their helmets together and giggled like school girls.

Here in the _Red Raven_ all inhabitants of Nosgoth came together. There was a silent agreement, of course, to lay down all ill-will and hostilities while in the tavern, but that did not mean that there wasn’t a bar fight once in a while. But where vampires and Sarafan met each other one could be glad when only fists where flying …

„Were you waiting long?“, Vorador asked Malek.

„Let me think ... Yes! I'm more savvy in escaping from heavily guarded fortresses than a certain clumsy-loafed-vampire we all know.“

„Show-off!“

„No really! Moebutt had it in for me today. I really had to be careful – he is going to mince me, if he ever finds out that I spend my spare time in the _Red Raven_. And with a vampire to boot!“

„Uncle Moe is harmless.“

_Déjà vu._

Malek’s play of features were excellently visible, even inside a full-faced helmet. He certainly disagreed with Vorador.

„Be careful with that old geezer! I have seen more impressive vampires than you lose their heads.“

„I actually did not come here to talk about uncle Moe.“

„I hope so!“ Malek laughed and raised his glass. „Cheers, you scourge of mankind!“

„To your health, stinking mortal!“

***

The night was still young when vampire and Sarafan stumbled arm in arm through Meridian’s streets. No one took any notice. And if, they only tore open their windows and cussed a blue streak at them but thankfully no one emptied out their chamber pots over their heads this time.

„The cheese is beautiful tonight!“

„Dumbass. That’s the moon.“

They stood on the market square and admired the moon. It was so big and seemed so near that Vorador felt he just needed to reach out to touch it.

„I’m hungry ...“

„Cheese?“

„Cheese!“

 

A short while later Meridian’s alley cats observed with great interest two figures standing against the walls of a dairy and trying to climb through its, very small, window.

„Keep still down there, for the oracle’s sake!“ Vorador hissed and kicked against Malek’s helmet. The Sarafan grunted.

„Just climb through that window already! Your ass is not that fat“, the Sarafan grumbled. With a last heave Vorador rolled into the dairy. The smell of rotten milk and wet towels engulfed him – and the aroma of ripe cheese. He whipped his mouth with the back of his hand.

„Don’t you dare to eat the cheese all alone! Open the door this instant!“

Even if he had to wrestle with himself – share with Malek? The delicious cheese? – Vorador opened the door at last and let the human in.

„Mmmmmh ...“ A single drop appeared on Malek’s helmeted chin and grew bigger very fast.

„Are you drooling?! That’s dis-gus-ting!“

A short while later they sat cross-legged in front of the loaded cheese racks. Vorador cut one wheel in half with a claw.

„Go, cheese!“, he laughed and offered Malek a piece.

They sat and ate until their bellies were as round as Raziel’s glowing eyes.

„Boah! I’m bursting at the seams!“ Vorador heaved himself onto his feet, swayed, flailed wildly with his arms and grabbed hold onto one of the cheese racks.

„You need more exercise.“ Malek rolled to the entrance, fished for the door with his outstretched foot, opened it, rolled two meters onto the street – and tumbled squealing down the street. He had forgotten that the dairy stood on a small hill!

„If that’s your idea of exercise, I gladly decline“, Vorador said and looked sceptically down the street. Malek was very far away, tumbling onward until he – crack – slammed to a halt against a ward gate. Small bats circled his helmet, screeching at the top of their lungs. But the guards were infinitely worse, who, when seeing the spread-eagled Sarafan, just burst into raucous laughter. But in the end, they helped Malek up and put him back on his feet again.

Vorador approached them cautiously, keeping to the shadows.

„A Sarafan from the citadel, eh? What’s bringing you to Meridian? Not very talk active, are we? And what did you eat? *sniff* Smells like cheese and ... *sniff* cocktail cherries!“, exclaimed the guard.

„Come, come“, leered the first guard. „A young and innocent paladin like yourself has no business to be out and about at this time of night.“

„Yeah, we’re a dangerous place. Not like you in the countryside with your goats and sheep.“

Malek, still a bit confused from his tumbling slide, was desperately looking around for a fitting retort, but nothing came to his mind.

_I had a date with my vampire boyfriend and after that we robbed a dairy of five wagon loads of cheese_ didn’t quite cut the, well, cheese as it were.

At this moment a large and shaggy dog turned the corner and rubbed himself around the surprised Sarafan’s knees, much to the other guard’s astonishment.

„Is that yours?“

„Uhm, yes. I never leave the stronghold without my, eh, dog. Meridian is sooo dangerous, one hears. Is that not so, Vorry?“ Malek petted the ... dog’s ... head whose long tongue was lolling. It panted and drooled and pressed his nose into Malek’s crotch.

„That’s supposed to be a dog?!“, a guardsman asked disbelieving. „It looks more like a wolf.“

„Poppycock! Wolves in Meridian!“, the other sneered.

„But look at its big yellow eyes!“

„And the green fur!”

As they looked up from their discussion, Sarafan and dog were long gone.

***

Vorador stood on the roof ridge and peed with the wind.

„I really wish you’d stop that“, grumbled Malek, who sat next to him. Vorador shot him a dark look: „Sorry, that I had to turn into a werewolf to save your sorry ass AND our date! Actually I’m quite pleased by how the transformation turned out ...“

„Your fur was green.“

„... but I always have to pee afterwards. And honestly! No one bats an eye when Kain is pissing into the holy pool – apart from the Elder God that is, but I take a piss one time and it’s like the Hylden are attacking!”

Vorador zipped his pants and let himself fall to the spot next to Malek with a look of utter boredom on his face. He had imagined his date quite differently!

First a cozy get-together with Malek, with drinks and umbrellas and tasty cheese as desert. And to round out, some hot, steaming sex. They should have rented a room at the _Red Raven_ in the first place and used the bed properly until it fell apart. But instead of being naughty with Malek he now sat atop a windy roof and risked getting frostbite on his ears!

„What’s the plan now?“ Vorador picked his teeth with his claw in desperate search for some leftover cheese. Malek grinned conspicuously and pulled a marker out of his pocket.

„I know something“, he whispered. „But it requires a lot of caution, secrecy and daring do!“

„What are we waiting for?!“

Both couldn’t suppress a school girl giggle as Malek brandished the pen like a sword and put his hand theatrically over his heart.

„Onward, brave men! To the Sarafan stronghold, to slay the dragon!“

Vorador was already on the move and pinched the Sarafan’s butt as he passed him.

„Onward, you old chatterbox. The dragon’s not gonna slay itself. And as for your brave men ... I always knew that I’m legion.“

***

To climb walls was one of Vorador’s easier sporting activities. But to do so with a Sarafan clamped on his back proved to be quite difficult.

„Have you grown fatter?“, he wheezed and heaved himself further up the wall. His claws were leaving deep grooves in the masonry.

„By all demons of the spectral realm! I’m putting you on a diet! Only apples from now on. Ow!“

Malek had actually pinched his ears!

„Shut up, vampire! That’s all muscles. Who do you think you’re dealing with? I’m a Sarafan, a honed and deadly weapon and ...“

„Fat! Ow!“

Somehow they reached the bridge, which connected both parts of the Sarafan stronghold. It was a miracle no one spotted them or heard their loud wheezing.

„My back!“, wailed Vorador. „Never _ever_ again, you rhino!“

Malek shushed him.

„Something’s foul here“, the Sarafan whispered. „It’s way too quiet.“

„Well, it’s night time. Honest citizen are asleep in their beds.“

„Sarafan are not honest citizen. I mean, they are honest but no ordinary citizen.“

„We can always make sure that we remain undisturbed.“ Vorador chuckled darkly and pointed towards a wooden door which said _cloakroom_ on its lintel.

„We’ll just knot together all bootlaces and if there’s to be an alarm all of your Safran brothers will be busy for a while.“

„It’s Sarafan. And we don’t wear lace.“

Silence.

„Well, uhm, we better not sound the alarm then.“

„Vorador? Where do you think you’re going?“

„To slay the dragon. That’s what we came for.“

„That’s not the way to its lair.“

Vorador groaned heartily as Malek pointed up another wall.

***

By the skin of their teeth they arrived at their destination.

Moebius’ room was not unlike a library: books as thick as logs, tomes, atlases and everything that could be named print work was hoarded here and stacked up to the ceiling.

Moebutt, the dragon, was sound asleep in his bed amidst his hoard of books. And he snored that the spiders felt the draft in the rafters. He was also wearing a sleeping mask and a nightcap.

„What is it with old men and nightcaps?“, Vorador pondered. „Janos has one like that as well.“

Malek shrugged and uncapped the pen.

„Ready?“

„Of course! I just hope you’re more skilled with a pen then with the thing between your legs!“

„Now, really! What did you have for breakfast today?! Cockroaches and chicken feet? Now’s really not the time to complain about my prowess in bed. Charge!“

 

„I don’t know what that is, Malek, but it’s not art.“

They stood above Moebius and contemplated their work.

„Maybe we should’ve gone for another type of moustache – this one doesn’t suit him at all.“

„That may be, but it makes him look like a villain.“

„And what’s this spot here? Fly dirt?“

„That's a damn heart! But what does a vampire know of art?!“

The time streamer sat up so suddenly that vampire and Sarafan yelped and jumped into each other’s arms. It was their saving grace that the great and mighty Moebius was not yet fully awake. He smacked his lips, scratched his bald skull under his nightcap and pushed the sleep mask away.

„Malek! What a pleasant surprise. What is the matter? Is it sunrise already?“

His gaze fell on Vorador who hung in the Sarafan’s arms like underwear on a washing line. Behind the time streamer’s furrowed forehead wheels and gears started to turn, intertwined and lit up the furnace of his needle sharp mind. Within milliseconds.

„VAMPIRE! ALARM! TO ARMS!“

No siren in the world could have managed, what Moebius’ voice achieved: the stronghold sprung into action in a fraction of a second. Vorador quickly left the room, closely followed by Malek.

„Feel my wrath!“

Moebius had followed them out of the door and jumped up and down on skinny, hairy legs, while hissing and spitting and finally hurling one of his bunny slippers after their hastily retreating forms.

It landed between Vorador’s feet. The vampire stumbled, shrieked and tumbled down a flight of stairs until his fall was broken by a container full of glitter. Clouds of the stuff blew up in every direction.

„ _Why_ do you have a _cart full of glitter_ standing around at the _foot of the stairs?!_ “, Vorador howled and looked down at himself. He looked like a freaking disco ball!!

„That was a leftover from the last Sarafan ball. I did tell you! Is that how you listen to me?!”, Malek yelled back.

„Now's not the time to complain about my qualities as a listener!“, Vorador hissed. The vampire tried in vain to wipe the sparkling stuff off of him but he sneezed and added another cloud of glitter to the barely settled one.

From the top of the stairs they could hear the clatter of dozens of armoured feet, interrupted with: „This way!“, „Death to the vampires!“ and „Banzai!“.

Malek boldly hauled a half blinded Vorador out of the container and dragged him along behind himself.

„Move it!“, he urged. „If they catch you, you’ll see your next sunrise from a stake.“

„I have NEVER seen a sunrise in my life“, protested Vorador and stumbled after Malek. „I’m way too young for that kind of thing. Maybe in another century – but you’ll be dead by then ...“

Malek suddenly stopped.

„By Moebius’ singed toupee!“

They had found a way out of the stronghold and the cloudless night sky stretched over their heads. Moon and stars were just bright enough to make out the banisters in the dark. But, in the treacherous east, the pale light of a new morning could already be seen.

„This way! Quickly!“

They stormed along the bridge. Beneath them gurgled the waters of a fathomless gorge. In that moment the sun appeared over the horizon. Burning raced over the land, caught up with the two feeling figures and was reflected myriads of times by Vorador’s body-glitter.

Farmers who were already on the way to their fields, later told stories of a drunk diamond who stumbled towards the mountains. Others said that they had seen a very rare kind of sparkling vampire – one that wasn’t affected by the sunlight. (A sad misconception, still believed by some even today.)

But nothing of that mattered to Vorador at the moment. Even with the glitter reflecting almost all light away from him it was getting continuously hotter and he started to feel like a cat on a hot tin roof!

„This way! To the catapult!“, Malek directed him.

„Catapult?!“

The Sarafan didn’t answer but pushed Vorador into the sling, climbed in next to him and cut the strings.“

„Aaaaaahhhhhhhh…“

***

In the vampire fortress Janos was preparing himself for coffin. It was ridiculous, of course. He, as an ancient vampire, could walk both in sunlight and in darkness. Sleep was something for humans and the weak of mind and body.

And still, it had something very refreshing and soothing to put your head down for a few hours and be safe from annoying brats and death-and-glory-clamouring Sarafan.

Apropos, annoying brats … Janos' parental instincts kicked in: It was very quiet in the upper storeys of the keep. It was too quiet!

Janos Audron grabbed his cloak and ran up the stairs.

Everything was all right in Raziel’s room. Good! The small blue vampire ... ghoul ... wraith ... whatever! … was sleeping peacefully in his bed. The one or other Sluagh and Hit was nosing around but everything else was fine.

A similar picture presented itself in Kain’s room. The vampire hung head down from the rafters and was fast asleep. Janos shook his head and vowed anew to put his foot down about watching old vampire movies. It got them silly ideas!

Only Vorador left. Perhaps his eldest son was damaging his hearing again with this awful noise-and-clamour music. It would explain the silence, Janos thought, and thanked all known Gods for headphones.

He opened the door.

He closed the door.

A whole cluster of feathers lost their hold on his wings and fell down like a swarm of dead crows. Two more strands of hair turned grey.

„Damn it!“ Vorador’s shout could be heard through the thick door.

„How retarded are you to forget to lock the door?!“

„Not so hasty! _You_ were the last one to come through! And get a grip. Nothing too horrid about one’s parent walking in on oneself while having hot sex with one’s arch-enemy … No, wait, NO! Don’t throw my trousers out of the window!!“

 

~The End~

 


End file.
